A Journey's Danger
by Raurenkili
Summary: Glorfindel, Falandir, and their companions are traveling to the Elven city if Nargothrond; what they don't know is, an army of mercenaries sent by Sauron is following them. Another total rewrite, this new version has new characters, more action and better angst.
1. Chapter 1

****_The second chapter in: The Fadriel Chronicles_

**_ I am the author, and you shall know that if you like my characters, I shall still do with them what I want, and take them withersoever I will it, Mwohahaha. -Raurenkili _**

**_A/N:_**I have provided translations at the bottom of each section for the few elvish phrases it contains. At the bottom of some sections, I list the name of the next POV. I hope you like long fanfictions, because this one will be pretty lengthy; my OC's name is _not _to be pronounced Fullandir, but Fal-an-deer. A lot of questions have been asked about the plot of the first, so I am inclined to answer some of them. Guest, the story is assuming Tolkien's alternate plot of Celeborn being Telerin, Falandir and Finrod practically lived in Doriath at a point and therefore used the native language of Sindarin. Luthien is in the background unmentioned, and it was she who sent word to Doriath. Since there was no battle going on, Glorfindel got leave from Gondolin on the request of Galadriel. **_Now, on to the fanfic!_**

** Glorfindel and Falandir are travelling to Nargothrond for safety, what they don't know is, an army of Orcs is following them. (Sequel to The Loss of Felagund - Can be read as a stand-alone) **

Chapter 1: **_To Nargothrond_** ****

"Glorfindel, may we please stop for camp?" Falandir asked the partner riding alongside her.

"Absolutely not." He replied bluntly.

"Glorfindel," agitation edged her voice, "We have been on these horses for six days straight! Don't you think they are as tired of us as we are of them?" She patted her steed. Celeborn had advised them not to stop for camp, just in case someone would try to follow them, and Glorfindel was taking him _completely seriously._

"144 hours, isn't that a lengthy time for even the Eldar to be out journeying all at once?" She was trying to let him know that her legs were starting to ache very badly, but she didn't want to be wimpy, as the Atanatari called it. She sneaked a glance at the rest of the group; _I wonder if they're in pain too? Am I the only one? _But the rest of the riders kept straight faces; chins up. It was a regal manner they used when around their Lord and Lady; they were not to speak unless spoken to, and certainly not to complain about tired legs. One threw his long, black hair over his shoulder and stared almost menacingly at their surroundings.

"We may _not _stop for camp!" Glorfindel replied, just as agitated, "You know the commands your Adar gave to me and I am not about to disobey orders!" He threw his head back, bright yellow hair folding in the sunlight, and urged his horse on ahead, forcing her to catch up. He had really been acting more like a drill sergeant than her ardent lover the past few months, (After Felagund's funeral he had stayed the winter in Doriath;) but he had reason to now, there had been a sense of danger in the air lately; dark mists arose at night and a foul smell would sometimes drift along the woods upon either side of the company. But now even their Elven horses were tiring. Falandir reached down and caressed her horse as they plodded along, sliding her slender fingers lightly over the muscular neck, then down to the horse's chest, whispering Elvish words to soothe it. Glorfindel did the same with his steed, only with less effect; the tired stallion threw his head rather defiantly and slowed down, causing a grin from one of the other Elves, Alaye she believed his name was. They were travelling with five escorts who would guard them from harm; sent by the order of Galadriel and Celeborn, and picked from Doriath's finest Elves by Thingol to protect them on the rather long road from Doriath to Nargothrond. Early on the journey, they had passed Amon-rudh. It was almost too far away to see, shrouded in early-morning mist at the time, but the Elves marked it. That landmark showed them they were on the ancient south road, leading conveniently right to the doors of Nargothrond, and they were now less than a day and a half away from the gates. She continued to argue with him, forsaking trying to look cute and frowning at him;

"But Glorfindel, no-one is following us! The scouts would have spotted them; can we _please _stop, just for a short rest for the horses?"

"No!"

"Can we just please?"

"I said no!"

"Glor-

"NO!"

* * *

Falandir looked up as Glorfindel dismounted from his horse and tethered its harness to a pole driven into the ground, and with a glance at the dark evening sky walked into camp. It was three hours since she had persuaded him that they had actually stopped; and now he had just returned from scouting the area, to what wasn't really much of a camp at all, consisting simply of blankets laid on the ground circling a small wood fire. They hadn't expected to stop much, so this was all they had packed, and Falandir still had to do a good amount of quarreling to let them light the fire. Their company numbered seven, and five of the blankets soon held sleeping Elves. The lookout Alaye, the Elf with dark hair whose name was Enwe, and Glorfindel -who was just settling down by the fire- were the only elves awake besides Falandir, who was propped up on her elbow, resting covered in a blanket. None of them moved, and in the relative darkness, all but the keen eyes of their own kind would have missed them. Glorfindel was sitting beside Falandir, attentively watching her, to make sure that none disturbed her when she decided to sleep. She dropped from her elbow and lay flat, staring up at the stars. She sighed; glad for a rest from the constant movement of her horse, and her eyes glittered in the firelight. Lovingly rubbing the pad of his thumb over her smooth forehead, Glorfindel stared into her young ice-blue eyes, mirroring the stars like a pool, and suddenly was overwhelmed with love for her. Turning her head she smiled up at him, knowing what he was probably thinking; that if Nargothrond was found to be a dangerous place, then the only option would be Gondolin; his home, from which he had left to comfort her over her uncle's death. She knew he wished he could ask her hand in marriage right then and there, but nay, that was foolish they had both decided, for Celeborn was far away, and taking his daughter's hand without getting permission first could very well invoke wrath from the protective father. They would wait until they reached Nargothrond. There perhaps they could send a message to her father, asking, asking for an entire life together. Such weighty thoughts must have made him tired, for eventually he could sit up no longer, and sank to his blanket, intertwining the maiden's hand in his as sleep overtook him. Falandir lifted herself up again and glanced briefly around before going to sleep herself; Alaye was staring out into the dark, as was his job as lookout; Enwe sat by the fire, a steaming cup of liquid in both his hands, untouched. He stared into the flames unceasingly with his glittering eyes, not showing any signs of tiredness. _I wonder if he ever sleeps? _Falandir thought, but she wasn't about to stay up to find out.

**** _Glorfindel_

It had only been an hour when Glorfindel woke in the dark of the night. Alaye, who was still on the watch by the dying fire with Enwe, looked to him with concerned eyes. He motioned for Glorfindel to wake the Elf woman, while he got the others.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: **_Dark tidings._**

Falandir woke to Glorfindel gently shaking her arm. Staring down at their clasped hands, then meeting his eyes, she wondered at the concern that was shown there. Squeezing his hand and giving him a small smile but furrowing her brows, she sat up, and saw that all the other Elves were circling around Alaye to hear the report that had called them all awake. Even Enwe stirred from his position, which seemingly he had never left all night, cross legged by the fire. He kicked it now, and sparks flew off as smoke rose in tendrils into the air. Arandwe –who was the alternate lookout- sat up, yawning, then looked frightened at the large amount of smoke ascending to the sky and threw his blanket over the blackened logs. They all began to roll up their blankets and pack their things, and she followed their example, beginning to roll up her own.

"Man neitha?" She asked, throwing an inquisitive glance at Alaye. He began to speak; in Elvish of course, but this is how it went.

"I have espied an Orcish lookout; and scouting further out, I believe that there is a small army not a league behind us. 'Twould be wise to ride at once, the Talath Dirnen is near, and there no Orc would dare to come. They have been on our trail for three days. I think their intent, but I can only guess, -here he lowered his voice- is you, my lady," He nodded toward Falandir. Her eyes widened and she scooted closer to Glorfindel. He smiled down at her and wrapped his arm around her waist before speaking.

"Strange, for Orcs to come so close to the borders. The Elves of Nargothrond are ever watchful over the Guarded Plain, what would draw them so close?"

"The Gorgun are ever bolder, the days are dark. My heart fails me not in guessing that these mercenaries are sent to capture, or even kill the Lady Ellethae." Glorfindel's face twisted as if he was musing, then lit with an idea.

"Lathdol,"

"Yes my lord?" Alaye responded to his title.

"I now appoint you Fadriel's shield bearer and protector. Do you accept this task?"

"Yes my lord!" Alaye said. (Fadriel was the name Glorfindel had given to her, almost never using her mother-name. She went by both.)

"Beloved," Falandir spoke up, "I need not the protection of which you speak. I am perfectly capable of defending myself, and will you not be at my side?"

"Yes, of course I will," he said, "Alaye shall simply have to flank your other side." He grinned, laying a warm hand on her arm, then rising he commanded the group. "We move!" Falandir rolled her eyes, but moved without argument, knowing it was the safest route. The elves swiftly untied their horses, strapping on the last of their luggage, and stamping out the still smoldering fire they mounted their steeds. Alaye stooped before Foralaye, -Falandir's horse- and cupped his hands in a form of stirrup so she could mount. She thought he was taking his job just a bit too seriously, but smiled at him thankfully.

"Hannon le," She said, settling into the grey leather saddle and folding her sky blue cloak over the side of the horse. Alaye nodded rather happily, and went to his own mount.

"Why is it that you did not warn us earlier, if these Orcs have been following us for three days, as you say?" Glorfindel questioned.

"You never asked," Alaye said with something like a grin.

_(man neitha = what is wrong)_

* * *

They started off at a good pace, about two hours before the sun would rise. Chill mists blocked their view of the turf in front of them, and thick woods still stretched along either side of the field-like section of ground they were following. Now a little more than half a day's ride from Nargothrond, Falandir rode at the front, -though Glorfindel had protested her position be the middle, at which she had rolled her eyes and kept moving- Alaye rode at her side, bearing her Noldorin shield as was his task. His lookout skills were now trained on the outside of the company, making sure that nothing unwanted could ever come near her. Falandir, somewhat out of boredom, focused on Alaye's mind and thoughts started trailing off into her own; he was thinking about her… Lady Ellethae was certainly not young; he was musing, and he was right…. she could defend herself quite well, but her kin, the Noldor, fancied to call her so, being the newest Elf of Finwe's line, besides Celebrimbor and Ereinion. They always protected her as a youngling, though she was noble, and of great bearing, her 503 years paled in comparison to their eldest. She was born in Valinor, long after the unchaining of Melkor, and was carried as a small child on her mother's back, -much to Earwens dislike- at the crossing of the Helcaraxe. Galadriel would not leave her child in Eldamare while she traveled in Middle-earth…. Alaye was determining to protect her as such, and fiercely defend his role as her sole protector; to never leave her side, and defend her until the last-

He jerked out of his thoughts, obviously realizing he had been rather oblivious to his surroundings as Arandwe, the Elf who was taking over for Alaye as a scout, came trotting into the center of the group. Arandwe began hurriedly to speak;

"I was scouring a part of the eastern woods. There I found in wait an enemy scout of Orc kind, waiting to ambush me. I slew him quietly but upon glancing up I have found that the army is almost upon us." Upon finishing his report, Arandwe brought his gelding to stand by his brother's. The only two siblings in the company, Arandwe and Enwe had both been picked by Thingol to go. Glorfindel leaned in close to Falandir and spoke softly to her.

"Can you sense them, beloved?" He asked. Ellethae had been born in Valinor, and the Valar had bestowed great powers of the mind upon Galadriel her mother. When her daughter was born, she had passed some of these gifts to the child, making Falandir's already keen Elven senses of the mind an extraordinary power. She closed her eyes, focusing past the thoughts of urgency emanating from the beings around her. "Close your thoughts, all of you beside me." She breathed, not wanting to read incorrectly the content there. Almost immediately it became easier to focus upon minds far away, and she strained her own, reaching out like a radar. "Yes, I can sense them… Orcs….they are three leagues off, and they are gaining on us!" She took a breath, and continued to probe with closed eyes. "Speedily now do they run, they think us unaware…." She picked up on the thought of the nearest creature. "They have a great weapon in secrecy, and they're coming for…" her voice wavered, "…me!" Her eyes popped open in wide alert and she felt for her sword hilt, grasping it and pulling it half out of its leather sheath. _It was glowing blue._

"Right then," said Glorfindel. "We ride!" The elves spurred their horses faster with a word, hooves digging in and churning dust as they sped up.

They rode like this for over twenty minutes when danger struck. A loud, shrieking call split the air, bringing the head of every Elf in the company immediately to attention. Falandir brought her running horse closer to Glorfindel's, but in the noise of pounding hooves and shrieking creatures, her voice was lost. Glorfindel, however, had caught enough of her sentence to know she had sensed something. Over the noise he shouted

"In Yrchs pan sinwa od ammen, car cen min nave!" _(The Orcs are aware of us, they see our company!)_ "Nor!" _(Run!)_They started to gallop now; some of the horses ran in frenzy, spooked by the Orcish battle cry of "Golug, Golug!" the Orcs' word for the Noldor. The army, -about three score as Falandir could make it out- topped the hill from behind, hundreds of yards behind them but still too close for comfort. The ground shook, and giant figures lumbered over the crest of the hill that made her heart sink to her toes. There were trolls; two of them. The ground continued to shake; dirt flew as the Valinorean horses sped across it. The horse's muscles churned as they rushed forward and their manes flew back in the rider's faces. The trolls both stood fourteen feet high, with black plate armor on their legs and chests. Sauron must have gotten word that the young Noldo was out of the borders of Doriath, and sent an army after them. _Not the greatest idea_, Falandir thought to herself, questioning her parent's wisdom for sending her away to a seemingly safe but disappointing place. Before the two trolls ran scores of Orcs. Gnashing their teeth and brandishing scimitars, broken and black, they loped across the ground with surprising speed. A black arrow whizzed past Ellethae's head, and Glorfindel's voice again came over the noise. "Guard yourselves! There are archers among them!" She leaned in to urge her horse faster. Swerving, she avoided another arrow from the left and Glorfindel swung his shield behind his back, two arrows zipping through the air to stick quivering in the painted wooden disc. "_Should've brought a better shield," _Falandir thought to Glorfindel, who grinned fiercely through gritted teeth as he urged his horse faster.

Falandir threw a worried glance to the side as Alaye flattened to his steed, holding her metal shield behind her. The renewed pace of the horses widened the ground between them and the on-rushing army, giving them a slight advantage, but a thick rain of arrows came from the right. Now everyone should know that Orc-archers who are running have a pretty wild shot, and these had to run exceptionally fast to keep within distance of the horses, but these were very good shots. All the same, there was soon a break in the arrows -which fortunately none of had found their mark- and the company in turn, soon saw why. Four outriders of the army came up two on either side of the galloping horses. _They were wolf riders_. Alaye pulled back the string of his longbow until it almost touched Falandir upon his right side, and letting it go, brought down a warg on the left. The enraged unseated Orc now leapt at Enwe's horse as the animal passed, its scimitar upraised.

The horse shied away from the creature just in time, but the Orc jumped for it. In mid-air it stopped rigidly, and then fell back, another of Alaye's yellow-feathered arrows sticking in its heart. He rapidly continued to launch missiles off his bow, taking the other enemy and steed to the ground. On Falandir's other side, two wargs and riders fell, Glorfindel's blue-feathered arrows having done their work. The enemy arrows began to come again from the right, further up ahead, this time thicker. These Orcs were trained archers, positioned in squadrons that were hidden further along the road. They seldom missed, and they had time to stop and aim. The Elves raised their shields -or whatever they had with them- against the on-slaught of arrows, but the horses were not armored for battle. An arrow whizzed to meet its mark, and a shrill cry rent the air, and then was cut off as another arrow pierced Arandwe's horse's side. It reared, screaming and pounding the air with its hooves, and then toppled over backwards as yet a third arrow hit its chest. The Elven rider yelled and fell off as the horse rolled over, and leapt to his feet beginning to run after the others, who, shields still raised, looked back in fear. They slowed slightly, Arandwe started to catch up, but so did the army. The Elf ran harder, and dove for Enwe's saddle, catching part of the stirrup. If he managed to get on, they knew the horse couldn't escape with two on its back, but it was Arandwe's only hope of survival. He couldn't face a whole army on his own, Elf or not. Enwe's saddle was pulled sideways with the sudden imbalance, and it looked as if they would both fall off. Managing to stay on, Enwe turned and reached for Arandwe's outstretched hand, who was now swinging by the grip he managed to get on the saddle. An arrow hit it, sticking in the leather, and Enwe pulled his hand back away from the point of impact on reflex, causing Arandwe to miss and almost lose his hold.

"No!" Enwe yelled, reaching his hand down again, but it was too late. An arrow had already pierced the leather of Arandwe's tunic. Before anyone could even move yet another whistled through the air to meet its mark in his back. The Elf opened his mouth in a silent scream as the point sunk into a weak spot in his armour. His eyes widened in pain and surprise as the next arrow hit, and giving his friend a desperate look of sorrow, he slipped from the saddle. "_NO."_ Enwe whispered in complete shock, before desperately trying to grab his companion's hand again. He stuck his hand out as far as it would go, leaning over in the saddle and risking falling, and their fingers touched for a brief moment. Enwe looked at the arrows, which now had trails of blood seeping down the leather below them, and his eyes grew wide with horror, pleading as if to say _don't leave me_, but Arandwe was already too far gone to hold on. He looked up with a pained expression, sad blue eyes meeting emerald ones; silently saying goodbye. Their fingers parted, and he watched his friend fall to the ground, soon to be swallowed up by the rampaging host that was now right behind them. Falandir looked to the sky for hope. Enwe glanced at where he was going briefly, with one hand on the reins, and then whipped his head around to look back, placing one hand on the back of the saddle. Arandwe's feet hit first, then his back, forcing one arrow deeper into it. The shaft snapped off one and he screamed in pain and rolled. Enwe winced at the sound, and then looked as if he was assessing the distance between where they were now and where Arandwe fell - about to turn his horse around. His green eyes raged with fury, and she knew he would hurt himself if he went back; there wasn't much time-

"No!" She shot a desperate thought to Enwe, her voice quivering as she made a decision. "I'll go."

"Eru help us." she whispered to herself, taking a last glance at the sky. Enwe nodded slowly, accepting without resistance. With one fearful look back, he urged his horse forward. She herself slowed down, beginning to think about it. _I couldn't risk all of them going, seeing as they've opted for flight instead of fight, I could just grab the Elf and go right?_ _Glorfindel wouldn't want me to, he would say whoever falls behind stays behind, and if Enwe wanted to go, he would risk his life, Arandwe's as good as dead already and we need to think of safety first… _But she knew what she had to do; her heart was pounding in her ears when she stopped herself._ Was this self-sacrifice? _She thought, _was this what Finrod had done for Beren_? She understood it all now; it was Finrod's own decision to save a life by losing his; and now it was her turn. Glancing to the side, she caught Enwe looking at her, but she was already off. At the slim chance her lost companion was still alive, somewhere behind them; she turned her horse, and against all wisdom or Glorfindel's wishes, _charged._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: **_A Warrior's heart_**

* * *

_Hoof-beats, her heart pounded like a hammer in her chest, every breath as loud as a gale of wind. These were the sounds of battle, not the clash of swords or the cries of Men, but the thumping of the warrior's heart. Not the fierce thoughts of fighting, or the rallying of men before a battle, but the quiet courage of a soldier that he would live to see another day. Courage, I need some of that, maybe throw some bravery in, _Falandir thought. _Enwe would want me to do this, wouldn't he? _But even ifshe'd wanted to think about second-guessing herself, it was too late to back down now.

* * *

_ "An Finrod!" she raised her already glowing sword, the sun reflecting off it._

She drove through the mass of enemies like a cliff through a wave, leaving a deep gap in their lines as she circled back. She looked around frantically for Arandwe, -or Arandwe's body-, and she finally spotted him. To her complete surprise, on the ground in convulsions, the Elf was still hanging on. He had pulled one arrow out of his back already, and a pool of blood began to gather on the ground beneath him. He coughed and tried to lift a shaking hand as she brought her horse to stand beside him, but before she could grasp his sweaty palm she was engulfed by roaring Orcs, over their surprise and guessing at her intent. Her head shot up, realizing that her plan of quick escape, -counting on the army's surprise- had failed. She swung her blue flaming sword to one side, then the other. She rent the helmet of an Orc in two, stabbed through the face of one and beheaded another. Crouching in the saddle she thrust her sword through the heart of one, and lopped off the arms of one more. One Orc jumped at her saddle, intending to hurt the horse, but was split in half by Falandir's quick sword. Splattering her blue cape with black blood, Orcs lost their heads, legs and arms, and yet more came, overwhelming her in a dark rush of creatures. One of the trolls roared and crashed forward to meet the Elf, crushing one or two creatures in the process. It swung its mace, but Foralaye was too quick. The horse dodged it again and again at Falandir's command, but the Orcs closed in, and she was caught. Closing in like a wall, they stopped attacking and stood around her, chanting like it was some sort of ritual. To watch their leader destroy someone was ceremonial for them. Slashing an Orc at the side, ignoring their revelry, she looked up into the raging squinted eyes of the troll with shining eyes, meeting its glance. It raised its mace with the slightest difficulty, striving against the will of the Noldo before him. She penetrated his mind with thoughts of halting; stopping, hesitating, but she couldn't hold him off for long. Suddenly, the Orcs gave way and stepped back, their hooting silenced. The troll however, was not moved. He was intent on the kill. He roared, fighting against her power with brute force, and Falandir braced herself for the death blow, her horse now standing protectively over the fallen Elf. She ignored the scene around her, waiting for just the right moment, but she could hear it; _Galloping hooves, a battle cry. The troll swung down hard, and missed, for Falandir had taken the advantage of space and jumped aside just in time. The outraged troll was met with the oncoming spear of her rescuer._

* * *

_Glorfindel_

Glorfindel called to her, but she didn't heed him. He would have brought the entire company after her, when suddenly the source of the arrows showed itself. A score of Orcs rushed out of the trees as they spotted their opportunity to keep the Elf lord from coming to Ellethae's aid. Alaye broke free and charged to her rescue, his hickory spear raised to the immense troll. Enwe downed the archers among the Orcs that were charging him with his small daggers, while Glorfindel felled the Orcs bereft of bows and rode down the rest. He couldn't help panting in fear and constantly looking up to see if his beloved was alright. A crash sounded in the forest and a short, un-armored troll crashed out of the forest to meet Glorfindel head on; he glared at it, flipping his sword in his hand in anticipation, and it was soon missing its massive head. They slew the twenty-some assailing them with little injury, and then wasted no time charging into the battle to help the two fiercely fighting the troll. The Orcs were dismayed at the quick arrival of Glorfindel, and they drew back slightly. Alaye had charged the massive creature, but the troll saw him coming and attempted to bat him off with a huge hand. The Elf had kept on, but meeting the opposing force full on, only the tip of the spear had penetrated. The troll was enraged by the pain and swung its giant mace wildly. Its intent was now the Elf prince that was now crashing into his ranks, quickly cutting his way toward the Elven lady. The troll swung straight down, but Glorfindel anticipated him and waited, and the huge weapon slammed into the ground in front of him, clouds of dirt rising from it. While it was delayed, Glorfindel had killed the Orcs in the remaining distance and reached Falandir. He rode almost beneath the troll, dancing in front of it, but it was standing up far faster than he had expected. It was about to swing down again, tipping the face of its weapon downward, intending to crush the Elf and his horse with him. Glorfindel looked up, and caught the blow on the troll's arm, but unfortunately with the flat of his sword instead of the blade. The mace came to rest directly above his head as he pushed against it, and there was a great struggle of might. The troll pushed down harder than before, growling and guffawing with the effort. Suddenly, Glorfindel felt a stab of pain in his arm as it was weighed down, and he felt a sickening snap in his sword-arm. He cried out in pain, but all he could do to save his life was switch arms and keep pushing. He had shouted to Falandir to stay back, and now he regretted the decision.

* * *

_Falandir_

Falandir had obeyed him and allowed herself to be pushed further back into the swarm of Orcs away from the troll, but now she tried to press back through them toward Glorfindel at the sight of the wrestle going on. She was the only one who could come to his aid now, as the other three Elves were now surrounded by twenty more Orcs that had rushed out of the opposite side of the forest. The Orcs around her, seeing her move, moved themselves to form a barricade in front of her. Battling with one arm, she secretively reached into her belt, and pulled out a small black throwing dagger. She aimed, but in mid-throw she was suddenly pulled sideways from her saddle, and the dagger sailed through the air, sticking the troll's shoulder just below its mark. She slew the Orc who was pulling her down and managed to get her seat again; but her horse had several cuts and bruises from where the creatures trying to kill its rider had missed their target. Her horse reared, coming down on top of three enemies, and she gained some ground forward toward Glorfindel, watching as the dagger, -sinking in- finally won some sway against the troll's forceful press, and The Elf lord shoved the creature's arm up just high enough to flip his blade, and when the troll brought it's arm back down again with more force, it's hand was sliced off at the wrist. Ignoring the screeches and wails of the lumbering beast, Falandir turned her head, and with wide eyes realized Alaye was slumped in the saddle. Unbeknownst to the pair, when Alaye had charged the beast he was knocked unconscious by the blow he was dealt. Fortunately the Lord and lady had drawn the bulk of the army away from him, but now he was dangerously close to the lines of battle, in a gap between the main host and the group that the rest of the Elves were fighting. Falandir quickly made her way toward him, reaching out to catch him, steadying his unconscious form onto his horse and gently wiping a streak of blood from his forehead that had come from the impact.

* * *

_Glorfindel_

Glorfindel assessed quite clearly without having to look that he had broken his arm, and a line of dark blood seeped through his white sleeve. He moaned and grabbed it as the troll fell over into the dust, Orcs jumping out of the way, setting it by his side and tucking a loop of his belt around it so it wouldn't hang free. With his good arm he still wielded his sword, Orcrist. Both of them had powerful swords, much feared by the Orcs of Beleriand. They were made by smiths of Gondolin, and he had brought Falandir the one she had now as a gift on a visit from Gondolin. Aside from her sword, Falandir had a long beautiful dagger which was forged by Thingol's smiths. Its name was Arrah, which in Elvish meant "The Sting." and it was very dangerous to the kind of Ungoliant.

* * *

This_ is not the end…_

Some of you would think what Falandir did to be foolish; charging without the help of her company to the rescue of a fallen comrade, but others would think it brave. I will leave that decision up to you. As we watch the Elves fight, we realize that the Orcs have the upper hand. Alaye still slumps, unconscious, and Falandir appears to fight to keep consciousness for some unseen reason. Glorfindel stands before them on his great horse Asfaloth, defending them from the crowd of enemies. His arm hurts more with every blow he deals, every movement he makes, but he fights on, determined to protect his love and his companion. The second troll has pushed his way to the front, and although he is now bleeding in several places he cannot be stopped; he has wounded already Taran and Enwe, who have found their way forward, and seemingly have no experience with trolls. We see that there is not much hope now, and if help does not come, their fate is sealed. Suddenly, we see Geldir's horse stumble and fall, and then catch itself, one of its legs collapsing under it. His own leg is pinned to the ground, and he cries out for help as he sinks steadily, trying to fight off the beasts attacking him as they succeed to draw him lower. Geldir is now in the midst of the Orcs, trapped under the collapsing horse. Glorfindel now has to make one choice out of many; to let Geldir die, to leave Falandir and Alaye defenseless, or to leave Taran and Enwe to fight the troll alone. Perhaps he could even escape, alone, and un-accompanied.

* * *

Authors often change scenes, or stop, at what seems to be the best part, but that is to keep you interested, (and I am terribly afraid I have not done a good enough job of tale-telling to keep you on 'till the end.) We move now to a hill called Amon Ethir, or the Spy hill, as some call it, where Elves of the kingdom of Nargothrond stand watch. Oh yes, we cannot see them, not even the company whose tale I am telling can espy them; but yet they stand, keeping ceaseless vigil.

Deyan looks up as a rider comes in,

"Man neitha?" he asks.

"Behold how idly you stand on your watch Deyan!" says the rider, motioning toward the plain below them. "There is a battle going on down there! The outer lookouts have spotted them. One is kin of the king!"

Deyan had seen a flash of light below earlier, as of a sword being drawn, but had mistaken it for the sun on some lost item below.

"I shall alert Celegorm, go now to thy post, and call me not idle; for this tower stands a better watch removed as it is than yours ever did out on the plains." He snuffed, almost forgetting his duty, then rushing off to sound a horn in the back of the stone tower.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: **_The light of Anor_**

* * *

_Falandir_

Falandir began to stir. One of the Orcs had broken its sword on her mithril armour, and a piece had flown up and cut her temple, where blood flowed freely now. Lifting her head, she swung her sword once again, and then surveyed the situation while steadying the still unconscious Alaye. What she saw made her despair, almost, Glorfindel painfully making his way toward the still sinking Geldir, leaving the path to Alaye wide open. Falandir pulled her horse in front of his, pushing back the Orcs who were readily advancing toward their target. A sound came to her ears, in the middle of stamping, Orcs; _a bow twanged behind them. _She thought that it would be reinforcements for the enemy, and turned slowly around; fearing the worst, but when she looked up the troll reeled with an arrow embedded in its eye. More bows twanged, Orcs fell, and the troll reeled again. _Someone had come to their rescue. _Elves of Nargothrond had seen the battle from afar, standing hidden in the mist covering the Talath Dirnen, the guarded plain. Celegorm gathered a small band of Elves, and his archers now topped the hill between them and the despairing Noldor. As the mist cleared, half a score of cavalry led by Celegorm charged down the hill, while the archers stayed in their positions. The Orcs shrieked and began to run at his cry of "An Feanor!" but they were not nearly fast enough, being ridden down and slain by Celegorm's small forces.

They drove the Orcs from the wounded elves, the son of Feanor facing on the dying troll. Only Taran, who was the most un-affected and the most un-involved, joined the hunt. Falandir jumped down from her weary horse and ran quickly around to all the wounded, helping them as she could: Geldir was badly hurt; he fell off his horse to the ground.

* * *

_Falandir_, G_lorfindel_, _Enwe_

Enwe jumped down from his horse, eyes wide and face smeared in blood and dirt; but he ignored everything. He ran around, wildly turning this way and that, looking for Arandwe. Falandir sheathed her sword and dismounted. She patted Alaye's horse on the way past, seeing that he was still unconscious. She knelt beside Geldir where he had fallen, heaving the panting horse off of his leg and examining him for injury. One of his legs was broken from where the animal had fallen on it; his arm was bleeding as well as his head. Putting forth her power she healed him as best she could. She staunched the wound on his head and for lack of bandages was finished, and helped him onto his recovering horse. Foralaye had been coming back to stand over Arandwe's body ever since the battle started, keeping him from the Orc's reach; but Falandir could no longer see him. She had been pushed away from him in the battle. Walking forward, she disappeared into the dust of the fray, toward the dim outline of the carcass of the troll, as Enwe began almost to whine in fear, spinning in circles, no longer actually doing any good at searching as if he had come to the border of insanity, tears beginning to stream down his dirty face. Suddenly, Falandir emerged from the cloud of dust around them, the sounds of fighting fading in the distance as the battle came to a close. She carried Arandwe in her arms, holding him gently, but as if he weighed nothing. His head hung back, and dark red seeped from a gash in his forehead to slip down long brown hair that fell almost to the ground. The bottom part of his legs dangled as well, but his arms were lovingly tucked in, making him look like a sleeping child being carried home in a mother's arms. Her blue eyes pooled with sorrow as she looked at Enwe, every inch of her pitying this Elf who was in so much sorrow. _If only you knew how similar I felt just a week ago._ For the form she held in her arms was lifeless. She hadn't needed to check his pulse, for how still he had lain amidst the wreckage of the battle was telling enough that he would never move again. Enwe's knees hit the dust, his hands open in a silent question.

"Wha?" He managed, swallowing hard; his face a mass of confusion and anguish. She bowed her head in a small nod so as not to meet his gaze, and kneeling, laid the figure gently on the ground in front of Enwe, carefully placing him so as not to disturb the remaining arrow in his back. His light brown hair folded to one side, and his arm rested against Enwe's knee.

"He was attacked," Falandir whispered, her eyes lowering in shame. "He had grabbed his life and held onto it, for you I have no doubt, but I was pressed hard away from him in the battle, and the enemy reached him." She had pushed a dead Orc off of him when she found him, and it had Arandwe's sword stuck in it. He had fought off the attacker with his last ounce of strength, but only cut it off in mid strike, leaving a deep gash in his forehead. Enwe's open hands were now running over his friend, checking for broken bones as if he could help him. He sat back for a moment, and a chill breeze ran over the battlefield, blowing his dark hair out of his eyes and away from his face. Falandir sneaked a glance upward and saw the setting sun glinting off the tear-stains on his face. Really he was quite a beautiful Elf, he had the best of the Sindar and the Noldor as far as looks went, but she pulled her head down again when he glanced up at her. Leaning over Arandwe, he tilted his head slightly, narrowing his green eyes as if considering the wound in Arandwe's forehead. Reaching out his arm, he placed his pale fingers lightly on the gash and ran them over it. The cut abruptly sealed, knitting together as his fingers passed, until soon it was no more than a line of blood on the Elf's forehead. Falandir held in a gasp and stepped back; wondering at the Elf's exceptional healing talents. Enwe shook his head slightly, tears falling to the dust, and moved to the part he had avoided until the last; Arandwe's wrist. He brought shaking hands toward it, and lifted Arandwe's arm off of the bloody ground, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing his index finger in, waiting. A heartbeat, and then another; Falandir had never seen an Elf's face go so pale before in her life. His eyes popped open, all hope having disappeared from their green depths in sudden realization, and a spark of hate, -something entirely different- had taken its place as he slowly rose to his feet, dropping Arandwe's hand as if it were a snake. He let out a quick breath, and a maniacal laugh was the next thing she heard.

"This is all your doing, you fool, are you satisfied at your work?!"

"_What?" _Falandir gasped, shocked at his sudden words.

"Oh yes, it is your fault that he lies there, you abandoned him to die! How could you let this happen?" he spoke in a low voice, glaring menacingly at her.

"I, I had no choice! We were all pressed hard!" She suddenly realized that this was the same exact thing she had done to Beren at Finrod's funeral, looking for someone to blame when there was none but evil to thank.

"Of course you had a choice!" He raised his voice as he straightened, "We all did! Only you made the wrong one, and now he has paid for it with his _life."_

"No! no….I tried…he was wounded already…" but she couldn't think of words fast enough, all she could do was swallow hard and take another step back, watching his advance like prey to a snake.

"Everything is because of you; this whole pointless journey is _because of you." _He pointed at her, his hand still shaking and his finger covered in blood; "I would never have been picked by Thingol to go if you hadn't needed to be kept _safe, _we were perfectly fine in Doriath! Better off than we could ever be in this _pit _of a fortress." His accusing finger now pointed behind him to where the orange sun illuminated the crest of Nargothrond, and the light fell on his green-clad arm with bronze armour, now blackened with Orc blood. He took another step toward her, his black boot touching the dirt silently, threateningly. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, that it wasn't her choice to go either, that her parents had forced her, but she knew that wasn't entirely true and he cut her off again, his voice snarling now. "I never wanted anything! All I ever wanted was to be left alone, kept away from your meddling family!" His sharp green eyes briefly swept toward Arandwe, then locked on her again, reminding her that the still form was his brother. "What did you mean thinking about self-sacrifice? If you were going to do it than you should've! And not taken the "safe" route out." She realized then that he himself had read her thoughts in that moment before she had charged. "At least _I _would have _actually_ given myself to defend him! I trusted you to protect him! To stand by him and _never leave_. Anything I chose would've been better than you! You failure! You failed him; you failed me, just like your kin before you." He was yelling now, his fist beginning to rise as he took yet another step, gaining on her as his words sunk in. "You are no better than Feanor, and deserve his fate!" His words were getting out of control, seeming to let whatever rage this was take over him completely. "YOU ARE THE REASON HE DIED!" He took two rapid successive steps toward her as she backed away, bumping up against Alaye's horse and stopping stone cold, looking frightened into his blazing poison-green eyes. She had stood there taking everything he said, accepting, and wondering if it was her who should be dead instead of Arandwe. He reached out his green-clad arm and grabbed her wrist, twisting it so she cried out and bringing his own back in the air, intending to strike her. He hesitated for a moment, finally considering if someone could be watching them, and it gave her enough time to speak.

"Please, no! You don't know what you're doing!" But it wasn't her voice he heard.

**"Stop!" **Glorfindel commanded, the sound coming from right behind them. The sheer power of his booming voice stopped Enwe dead in his tracks. His entire body went deathly still; the expressions on his face turning from anger and hatred to pure fear and concern. He stared straight ahead, blinking in confusion, his hand dropping from the striking position.

"_What have I done?"_ He breathed; his voice came out in a weak whisper and his hand went limp as she struggled away. "Oh, m'lady, have I hurt you?" He seemed to focus, his now bright and attentive green eyes searching her in concern, trying to read her movements for some clue of what he done. He reached out to touch her arm, but she jerked away in such extreme fear that he backed away himself, hands up in a neutral position, eyes wide. He let a shaky breath out all at once in another crazy laugh, his eyes fully snapping back to their normal sate and the tears meant for Arandwe pooling in them at his extreme emotion and glistening there. He looked around strangely at the surroundings as if he hadn't been there before, long black hair blowing in his face as the strong breeze picked up and continuing to back away. Glorfindel hadn't needed to say anymore; Enwe turned and brushed past him, forest colored cape whirling behind, and walked decidedly back to where Arandwe lay, scooping him up in his arms quickly and going to his horse standing in the distance, never looking back. Falandir wondered slightly through her shock if he would attempt to go back, the now 6 and a half day ride back to Doriath, but she turned her attention back to Glorfindel who was now standing alone before her.

"Such is the price of war." Glorfindel said, cloak flapping in the cold wind as the sun set behind his shoulder, "When good Elves lose their sanity because of grief and threaten others." He opened his arms and tilted his head, silently asking why she hadn't come to him already. Snapping out of her petrified state, she fled to his arms, wrapping her thin hands around his waist and breathing in his wonderful scent of all things Elven; woods, fields, and open air. He kissed her forehead, and then stroked her hair, resting his chin on top of her head.

"Oh Glorfindel, it's all my fault, I failed Arandwe," She sobbed, "Enwe was right, I killed him!" She sniffed and buried her face in his chest. "I'm a failure…_a failure."_

"Nay! That is not true beloved!" Glorfindel pulled her away from him so that he could look into her sad eyes; "You fought the best you could and you _did not _fail him. You are a valiant fighter; better even than some of my warriors, and you did what anyone could in that situation." She let out another sob and nodded futilely, and he cuddled her head against his chest. She took comfort in the sound of his beating heart and his warm body, snuggling close and squeezing him tight.

"I suppose there is nothing which you say that I can argue with, but Enwe stirs my doubts, and he clouds my thoughts…something is terribly wrong here. After pausing to think about it, then passing on, a rumble of laughter began in Glorfindel's chest, and he rubbed his thumb lightly across her forehead, then set it against his own, looking into her eyes.

"My love you do have a way of worrying about everything, but I know of something which you do _much _better." With that he leaned in, and she lifted her chin, their lips meeting, searching as if they had been apart for ages and just now reunited. After a wonderfully long moment, just when she wanted to pull him closer, stay like his forever, get married right then on the battlefield, he pulled away. Laughing a little, he said;

"Beloved, you have held my heart for what seems like an age, and more dearly still do you hold it, for truly you have me bewitched." He played with a tendril of her hair that had fallen from the loose braid she was wearing, then continued. "But I believe you have wounded to attend to." He grinned mischievously and held up his broken arm for her to bind. She rolled her eyes at him, knowing he was tempting her, but looked down, quickly concerned by the state of his arm. After that she went on to bandage Alaye's head with a piece of his own shirt, hoping he would awaken, but he didn't stir. Her own wounds were not fatal, and she joined the closing battle to let out her gathered hostilities, having attended to her wounded. More Orcs had rushed out of the forest farther up the road, though it did the diminishing army no avail. The troll fell under Celegorms sword and quick movements; but he had lost one Elf to it in its dying madness. His golden hair blew in the wind as he fought. He was a fair elven lord, fairer than most as they went, being a son of Feanor, but there was a twinge of hatred written into the lines on his forehead. They quickly slew the rest of the Orcs, and no word of the battle came to Morgoth's ears. Glorfindel's company was then escorted safely the rest of the way to Nargothrond by Celegorm, but Curufin did not show up.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: **_Endings and Beginnings_**

* * *

_Alaye_

Alaye Lathdol woke to a throbbing headache. He blinked, and sat up. Glancing around, he met the smiling eyes of Falandir; he blushed.

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked timidly.

Falandir shrugged. "Oh, six hours or so I suppose." she smiled and another Elf-maiden stepped out from behind her. Alaye was momentarily stunned by her young beauty.

She laughed, "You had me waiting awhile to meet you!" His face reddened.

"This is my cousin Finduilas," Falandir explained, "I told her of everything that happened and she wanted to meet you, so she was waiting with me here for you to wake up." Finduilas nodded and smiled again, putting Alaye in a rather uncomfortable position.

"I...uh...am honored...my lady," he stammered. Finduilas giggled.

"I came to see if you were well enough to go to the Dinner," Falandir said. He looked at her, "Where's-"

She cut him off, "You missed Arandwe's funeral." She glanced down at the floor in sadness, yet wondering if she should have said it so frankly.

"Oh," he said quietly, not sure what to say. He and Arandwe had known each-other slightly back in Doriath, and his death was a blow to the whole group.

"Geldir and the other Elves are well recovered, and will be attending." Falandir added, skipping the topic of death, and saying nothing of when she had seen Enwe screaming at the stormy sky beside Arandwe's grave that evening.

"I will come," he replied regally, not guessing at her dark thoughts and a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh good," Finduilas said excitedly, "I'll get the clothes!"

"Clothes?" Alaye said, thoroughly distracted and raising his eyebrows.

"It's a special dinner, honoring Finrod and celebrating our arrival," Falandir explained. "Your old clothes were...well...rather...disposed of," she said reluctantly. Alaye looked alarmed, and she laughed.

* * *

The Dinner was held in the main hall of Nargothrond, with a large table in the middle, at which they were all seated. Orodreth sat at the head of the table, with Celegorm and Curufin -who had finally showed up- on his right and left. Glorfindel sat in the seat second down, his wounded arm now in a cast. On the other side sat the Queen, with Finduilas and Falandir on her right and left. Enwe did not show up. Finduilas giggled, elbowing Falandir and pointing to where Glorfindel sat, frustratedly trying to eat with one hand. He looked up, and catching the girls staring at him blushed and tried to hide his fork. The Elves kept up a lively chatter, and minstrels played in the beautifully decorated hall.

* * *

The Company had arrived just in time, for at the darkening of the times Nargothrond had closed its doors, to all but the kin of their Lord.

** The End.**

_ For now..._

**_Author's note-_**_ If you have reached the end of this fan-fiction, you deserve an award. The re-write that you see here ended up being three times the size and length of the original version, 'cuz I kinda got carried away in the editing process, oops. :D. You will find that the presence of Celegorm at Nargothrond at the time stated in this story to be inaccurate. (He was kicked out by then __**:P**__) You are completely right. In the interests of my story I did this on purpose, so it's not a mistake. You can PM me anytime if you have questions, and I will even accept suggestions for who I should kill off next, what character to focus on, and even how the next story should go. Sorry to all those who have been waiting long for the next section, but I really needed to focus on my bad writing skills, so I hope the new scenes I inserted here will tide you over. (And I'm working on different fanfictions as well.) Feedback would be greatly appreciated, even if you've read this before, I COMMAND YOU TO REVIEW (or I shall have to kill Enwe *waggles eyebrows*). -Raurenkili_

_With BetaReading by TriciaOakenshield._


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